


The Witching Hour

by JoMarchisgay



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF, Trixya - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMarchisgay/pseuds/JoMarchisgay
Summary: Trixie works nights, and Katya can't sleep. The witching hour is the perfect time to fall in love apparently.





	The Witching Hour

Trixie poured herself a Diet Coke from the tap behind the bar. She did a quick spin to see if anyone was watching and added a double shot of vodka to it, drinking it quickly. It had been a long shift, she deserved this.

 

“Hey sugar, get daddy a refill?” She wrinkled her nose as she took the empty glass of the man sat on a stool a few seats down. He was a regular at the bar and she'd long since given up the battle of trying to get him to stop referring to himself as daddy. She placed the full glass in front of him.

 

“You know Carl, it's getting late you might want to pay off your tab…”

 

“Sugar I'll drink until I'm done drinking, you hear?”

 

She nodded.

 

“It's Trixie”.

 

“What?”

 

“My name. It's not sugar, it's Trixie".

 

He just huffed and took a sip of his beer, the white foam creating a moustache he was too drunk to wipe.

 

She didn't know why she bothered, he came in practically every day and he still didn't know her name.  
He wasn't about to start now.

 

She wiped her hands on her apron, looking at the clock and seeing it was only 2:30, she still had an hour and a half until she could kick everyone out. The thought nearly made her pour herself another drink, but she knew if she wasn't alert she had no chance against the army of drunk men that swarmed around her like bees to a honey-pot.

 

Maybe that was why she stood out so brightly when she walked in. The first woman to step into the grimy bar in longer than Trixie could remember.

 

She walked straight up to the bar and ordered a Coke, bright white teeth gleaming as she smiled. Trixie was too distracted by her obvious beauty to even consider how odd it was she would come into a bar at 2:30am and not order something alcoholic. She poured her Coke and slide it across the bar.

 

“Here you go, do you want a straw? It might help your lipstick stay on”.

 

The woman just smiled wearily.

 

“Mama it's on its way out, no point trying to preserve the dead”.

 

“Try telling that to a taxidermist”.

 

She caught her off guard with a laugh that was nearly a scream. It had been a weak joke, it didn't deserve this reaction, but the energy radiated from it was infectious. She was human redbull and Trixie felt herself become a little more awake, and not the lifeless beer goblin she'd started to consider herself.

 

The new woman soon stopped laughing and took a sip of her drink.

 

“Do you have a name?”

 

“Well according to every man in this bar it's sugar, sweetie and honey, so I'm actually not sure anymore”.

 

“Can I guess?”

 

“Can you guess my name? Like in Rumpelstiltskin?”

 

“EXACTLY”.

 

“I mean? If you want too?”

 

She squinted her eyes, looking Trixie up and down.

 

“How many guesses can I have?”

 

“One”.

 

“One? That's hardly giving me a fair chance”.

 

“It's your game!”

 

“What am I playing to win? You gotta give a girl a bit of motivation here”.

 

“Shots?”

 

“I don't drink”.

 

“You're at a bar?”

 

“You sell Coke”.

 

“Right…”

 

“It's 2:40, and there's no 7/11 in sight”.

 

“Are you going to guess?”

 

“Barbara”.

 

“That's your guess?”

 

“Yep, am I right?”

 

“So close, it's Trixie”.

 

“Ah! That was my second guess”.

 

Trixie smiled, and there was a brief pause.

 

“What's your name?”

 

“Guess”.

 

“Barbara?”

 

“Close”.

 

“So what is it?”

 

“I'm a woman of class, I don't give away my name on a first date!”

 

“I'm pretty sure that's meant to be sex, not an introduction”.

 

“We do things differently in Russia”.

 

Trixie was only 70% sure she was joking.

 

“Ok fine, what can I call you?”

 

“Baby”.

 

“Oh my god”.

 

“Sorry,” she laughed seeing Trixes cringing face, “that bad?”

 

“One of the worst I've heard”.

 

“Wow, that's saying something, I bet you hear a lot”.

 

“I've never before encouraged it”.

 

“Interesting”.

 

“Isn't it”.

 

The Russian smiled again, and Trixie wondered how much it would have cost to get a set of teeth that perfect. Something in her told her she was born with them. She didn't seem like the type of person who would spend a fortune to look like a doll.

 

Her clothes made Trixie wonder if perhaps she was homeless. A long tattered skirt with a mess of shirts and fishnets surrounding it, she wasn't sure where the different parts of the outfit began and ended but it somehow worked against her slender frame. Maybe she was a witch. She was certainly dressed like one.

 

They ended up talking until the bar closed, Katya making her way through 5 cokes, all of them full fat, and all of them sipped delicately as she held eye contact. She never looked away to check her phone or the time, Trixie had her full attention.

 

“Ok I have to ask, why are you in a bar at 4am if you're not drinking?”

 

“Honestly? I wish I could give me an interesting story but it's just insomnia”.

 

“And caffeine based drinks help with that?”

 

“Insomnia doesn't mean I'm not tired Tracy, it just means I can't sleep”.

 

“Oh”.

 

“Oh indeed! On this particular night however it's worked in my favour because I've run into you”.

 

Trixie hoped she couldn't see the blush behind her thick makeup. She normally spent her shifts praying the customers would stop flirting with her, and get here she was desperately waiting for another compliment to feed her growing fascination with this nameless woman.

 

“Are you sure you won't tell me your name?”

 

“I like the mystery it's giving me”.

 

“Hmm”.

 

“Any other questions?”

 

“Why did you put on lipstick?”

 

“I didn't, I just sleep in my makeup.”

 

“Oh my god…”

 

“What?”

 

“Isn't that uncomfortable?”

 

“It just melts right off!”

 

“Right into your poor pores!”

 

“Look at this face, do you see any pores?”

 

She pouted, framing her face dramatically and breathing in an oversexual way that made Trixie scream with laughter.

 

“Can I get your number?” She suddenly blurted, surprising herself with the question. She'd never asked anyone for their number before, let alone someone like her, who was very likely a serial killer based on her tendency to sleep in lipstick and the fact she still wouldn't give her a name.

 

She smiled, and for the first time that night it seemed shy. Her expression was the most genuine she'd seen it, and she caught a glimpse of something very human behind the eccentric exterior. But only for a second.

 

She jotted down a number on a napkin and handed it back to Trixie, who was trying not to look too eager.

 

“I should go, you're closing”.

 

“You don't have to go! We could talk a little longer?”

 

The Russian smiled.

 

“You have my number Trixie. Call me?”

 

“And what should I put the contact name as?”

 

The Russian just laughed as she walked out the bar, leaving Trixie in a daze she didn't shake until she fell asleep.


End file.
